What is wrong with us? Why this insatiable need to gnaw at things until they collapse? Why a sense of glee when someone on the other side falls? What is it about being the outsider that we soil the glass looking within our own souls? What is with the impatience that we do not ever allow anyone to finish his turn? What deludes our thinking that we even have the right to be in that queue? How have we become so shallow when our spoken mantras sound deeper than the scriptures? When did our words become so devoid of substance and character in our rush to malign people with whom we do not share an ideology? How have we become so vindictive that the slightest slight merits a gigantic retribution? When did we stop introspection to obsess about the other’s character? Why is the validation of our own selves so important that everyone else is dispensable and disposable? What happened to us? Democracy is what Pakistan wants, what Pakistan needs, and democracy is what Pakistanis ridicule and Pakistanis discard. It is a pattern. The irony is there is a constant lamentation for it in its absence. As soon as it reinitiates a process of entrenching itself in an enfeebled system of governance, bam — there is always a general, always a president, always a judge to holler an order to get the hell up and leave. The deposed is silent, defiant, unrepentant. The opposition dances in joy. The analysts and naysayers are divided among their many I-told-you-so’s and oh-no’s. The wise ones shake their heads and lower their eyes. The public is indifferent — except for the vocal some who belong to the deposed’s party and those who oppose them. Welcome to Pakistan, circa July 2012. Mr Yousaf Raza Gilani is the longest serving prime minister in the history of Pakistan. That was a fact in May when I wrote this line in an op-ed, and this is a fact even today. Lest there is a bombardment of contempt for me for being a PPP jiyali (militant supporter) anointing a PPP leader, let me state another simple fact. I have nothing to do with the PPP other than my admiration for Mr Bhutto and his legacy. If the election is held tomorrow, my stamp would not be for the arrow, but for a different party. I am an ordinary citizen and I cringe often seeing how it is all so easy for some to unravel the system. Pakistan is in serious trouble, and it upsets me deeply. The present federal government and the four provincial governments are responsible for most of it. Everything that is or could be awry is awry with Pakistan, and the people in power are the culprits. The economy, infrastructure, law and order, persecution of minorities, discrimination between provinces, inability to weed out terrorist outfits, bad ministerial policies, myopic foreign policy, irrelevance in the international community — you name it and Pakistan suffers from the problem. The country is in an apparent limbo, unable to change the status quo. I know Pakistan is in need of a complete overhaul, but what would be my contribution towards that? As an ordinary Pakistani that will be the exercise of my right to vote. I will not throw shoes at the leaders; I will not abuse them in my articles; I will not cheer when they are disrespected; and I will not want them to be overthrown. I will simply wait. I will vote. And I will see the change take place. Simple. I want my country to be a true democracy, I want all its institutions to run systematically the way they ought to. To me, Mr Gilani’s dismissal is all that is wrong with the democracy Pakistan should never be. Liaquat Ali Khan was assassinated. Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto was ousted, and then judicially murdered. Benazir Bhutto’s government was dismissed twice, and later, she was assassinated. Mian Nawaz Sharif’s both governmental tenures were terminated, one by a civilian president and the next by a general. Yousaf Raza Gilani — a few months short of being the only prime minister in the history of Pakistan to complete his term — was declared ineligible via a Supreme Court order. All democratic premiers — 65 years and four military, decades-long reigns, here we are. This is what saddens me. Why is the dismissal of a democratically elected prime minister an event to celebrate? How has this ensured a perpetration of a system many died for and which is the system that must be? How does the inefficiency of a premier’s governmental policies make him eligible for punishment without being presented to the only power that truly matters — the public? How does a court — notwithstanding its constitutional authority — decide that it is time for an elected leader to go? In a power struggle between the executive and the Supreme Court, the prime minister became the perfect punching bag. Propped up by a tremendous wave of anti-government sentiment, it was deemed correct, legal and constitutional to end the tenure of Mr Gilani. The evaluation of his management and administration skills and execution of policies is to be analysed and judged by the voters, and subsequently, history. What has happened here is a convoluted application of justice. Write the letter or go. The court knew there would be no writing of any letter, not by Mr Gilani, not by his successor, and not by any PPP leader who may come to power after the next elections. The court knew it could have waited a bit longer, when there might have been a different party in power. The court knew that the unquestioned loyalty of the prime minister for his party far outweighed any desire to protect his seat for a little while longer. The court knew, despite the legal standing of its arguments, that no prime minister would label his president a criminal. The court knew, and yet it persisted. Why the alleged graft cases against Mr Zardari could not wait a few more months is beyond my limited comprehension. As the case against the Chief Justice Chaudhry’s son, Dr Arsalan Chaudhry became a rolling-of-the-eyes topic and a daily headline, there had to be focusing of attention on something else. Something that was much bigger; and what is bigger than the judicial dismissal of a democratic prime minister? The legalities are in place, the public is with you, the opposition is your biggest ally, the incumbent government is disliked, and you have the power to do as you see fit. June 21 was another black day for democracy and that is how I would always remember it. What was even worse was what came with the verdict. The Supreme Court disqualified Mr Gilani as the prime minister, as a parliamentarian, but that was not the end of it. Mr Gilani is not allowed to run in any election for the next five years. From being a prime minister, he has been downgraded to a nobody politically. I sat in disbelief for ages when I heard it. Years of work and with one stroke of the pen, it had all been turned to zilch. Notwithstanding the justified criticism of his government, the unfairness of the verdict left me speechless. Mr Gilani was not penalised because of his governmental misjudgments. Mr Gilani was punished because he refused to obey a court order, which was labelled as contempt of court. To those who celebrate Mr Gilani’s fall, I have just one thing to say. This could be you tomorrow. Do not rejoice about a legality that could snatch your seat from you faster than you can say Your Honour. This is not an occasion to validate a decision that could become the norm to play peek-a-boo with your dreams of grandeur someday. Remember your own pain of being the victim of untimely dismissals. Focus on the sanctity of the system, not on your impatience to push the ‘villains’ out. Do not forget the system you cheer today will be your Achilles heel tomorrow. To me, Mr Yousaf Raza Gilani is the longest serving prime minister in the history of Pakistan. Until there is another one. The writer is an assistant editor at Daily Times. She tweets at @MehrTarar and can be reached at mehrt2000@gmail.com